Midnight in Gryffindor Tower
by vladfan
Summary: Deleted and reposted it to correct some grammatical brain spasms on my part. Takes place late in DH, when most of the Gryffindors are gone from Hogwarts, and Neville and Seamus have only each other to lean on.


It was early May at Hogwarts. Neville Longbottom stared at the darkened ceiling and tried to will himself to sleep, but he couldn't close his eyes. The quiet kept him awake.

Sleeping in the same room with four other people, you learn to filter out background noise when you want to get your head down. Neville had learned to sleep through almost any sound teenage boys could make: Ron's snoring, Dean's muttering, Harry's occasional nightmares, and the inevitable toss offs (that had been pretty much a nightly occurrence for a couple of years). But the flip side was that he had lost his ability to sleep in silence, because for this, his seventh year at Hogwarts, his dormitory had been almost empty.

Harry and Ron hadn't come back for their seventh year. Dean had, but his mixed parentage had made him a target, and he had been gone within a month. Now it was just Neville and Seamus, and even the Irishman had had a near escape. Seamus' father was a Muggle, but, when confronted by the Ministry (Neville nearly spat in disgust), Seamus' mother had saved her son at the cost of the most audacious lie Neville had ever heard of.

Standing before the Wizengamot, she had declared for all the world to hear that her husband was not Seamus' father. That Seamus' true father was, in fact, none other than the now-deceased Sirius Black.

Neville grinned in spite of himself. Seamus' mum was absolutely brilliant, in every sense of the word, coming up with that. Growing up around Muggle borns had given Neville a glimpse into their world, and he knew from Harry and from Hermione that there was an easy way to establish Seamus' parentage, something called a DNA test. But the purebloods running the Ministry now thought themselves so above the Muggles, something so simple probably had never occurred to them. And since Sirius was dead, there was no magical way of determining whether or not he was Seamus' father.

So Seamus was reprieved at least temporarily, but the three empty beds in the room weighed heavily upon both of them. Neville missed Harry, missed Ron, missed Dean and Hermione and Ginny and Luna and all the rest who were gone from Hogwarts so much he ached, and he angrily wiped tears from his eyes at the thought of them all. Had they been caught? Were they still on the run?

The bathroom door opened, and Neville hurriedly composed himself. Over the past eight months, Seamus had been leaning more and more on Neville, and Neville knew that he couldn't let Seamus see him break down, because to do so would destroy Seamus' fragile psyche, maybe for good. Seamus passed his bed without a word and climbed into his own. Neville started to wish him good night, then stopped. It wouldn't be a good night, and there was a damn good chance it would never be a good night again.

They lay in the silence. Unable to sleep, Neville listened to the sound of Seamus' breathing, waiting for it to change to the rhythmic inhale-and-exhale that would mean that sleep had claimed him at last.

But while Seamus' breathing changed, it didn't change like that. Instead of growing deeper and more regular, it came in short, quick gasps, and, his eyes long since having adjusted to the darkness, Neville could see Seamus' huddled form shaking.

Seamus was crying.

Neville was out of bed and next to Seamus' in an instant. He crouched down, his hand on the other man's shoulder, gently shaking him. "Hey, mate," he said quietly, "I'm here. I'm here for you."

Seamus turned over and threw himself into Neville's arms, and Neville held him as his body racked with harsh sobs. "I……I……I'm so scared!" Seamus wept.

Neville shifted his body so that he was sitting on Seamus' bed, still holding the Irishman, his hand stroking Seamus' sandy blonde hair. "I know, mate," he murmured softly. "So am I."

"B-but y-you're so……_b-brave_!"

"I'm not brave," Neville said. "Bravery is when you don't know what's going to happen. But I _do_ know. The others will come back, and they'll have figured out a way of getting rid of You-Know-Who once and for all, and things will be all right again."

"Y-you don't know th-that……"

"_Yes, I do._" Neville surprised himself at the intensity of the words, and he certainly surprised Seamus, because the other youth's sobs subsided and he twisted his body to start at Neville incredulously. Neville took Seamus' face in his hands and continued, "I know it, Seamus. Harry Potter will find a way of putting things right. He always does."

"Do you r-really believe that?" Seamus whispered.

Neville shrugged. "I have to," he said. "If I didn't, then I'd have to be brave."

Seamus chuckled, and Neville realized, for the first time, just how angelic the Irishman could look when he smiled. He felt a growing tightness in his groin, and decided it might not be a bad idea to put some physical distance between the two of them. "Um……why don't we try to get some sleep?" he suggested.

He pulled Seamus into a quick hug—but as he tried to pull away, he found himself unable to. Seamus was holding him close, and wasn't going to let him go.

"Um……Seamus……" Neville's voice trailed off as Seamus released him just enough so that the two young men could look into each other's eyes. Even in the dim light, Neville could make out the determination in Seamus' glance.

He said again, "Sea-" And that was as far as he got, because Seamus pulled him down into a kiss.

It was in no way a brotherly kiss between mates. Seamus' mouth opened under Neville's and his tongue inched its way out, poking at Neville's lips. Neville's mouth opened in surprise, and Seamus was in his mouth, his tongue dancing with Neville's.

Not that Neville minded. He'd had a bit of a crush on Seamus since their first year—but then, he'd had a bit of a crush on Harry, Ron, Dean, Fred, George, Lee, Oliver Wood—just about the only Gryffindor boy he hadn't had a crush on was Percy!

He slid down so that he and Seamus were level, and gave himself up to Seamus' advances. Seamus got on top of him as they kissed, and Neville ran his hands down along Seamus' torso and under his pajama shirt to the warm skin underneath and the hard muscles underneath that.

Their shirts were gone almost immediately, and as Seamus rolled back and pulled Neville on top of him, his hands slid into the waistband of Neville's boxers, sliding them and his pajama bottoms down around Neville's thighs. Neville almost leaped from the bed in his haste to strip them off the rest of the way, and he could see Seamus removing the rest of his own clothes and tossing them over the side of the bed.

Neville dropped down on Seamus again, his mouth open for another kiss, but Seamus arched his back and legs in a wrestler's bridge, and Neville tumbled off of him to land on his back. Then Seamus was on top of him, his mouth on Neville's throat, his chest, his stomach. Neville writhed in pure pleasure as Seamus made love to him—and then froze as Seamus' mouth reached the promised land.

Seamus' tongue slid down the length of Neville's shaft in a slow, easy glide, then came back up again before doing a lazy spiral around Neville's slit. Neville knew he was leaking in anticipation, and when Seamus' tongue hit that tiny opening, it was all Neville could do to keep that leak from turning into a geyser.

Seamus gulped down Neville's manhood, his lips parting as they reached the base, then closing quickly as they slid back toward the head. One of his hands found its way underneath Neville's arse to start playing with the hole. Neville, for his part, ran his hands through Seamus' thick, silky hair and over his muscled shoulders and arms—and kept his mouth tightly shut. Neither dared risk a Silencing Charm; such things were watched for, as signs of possible rebellion.

"Shift over," Neville whispered. Seamus did, his mouth still full of Neville, and Neville shifted his own body in response until he was face-to-face……sort of……with Seamus' equipment. He took Seamus into his mouth and almost gasped with joyous shock at the salty-sweet taste of him. He began to glide his mouth up and down, even as his own fingers sought and found Seamus' entrance.

The two men quietly fed on each other, not daring any more noise than they could help. Seamus' orbs bounced off of Neville's noise and his mass of hair tickled Neville's chin. Neville noticed nothing; his mind was entirely on the job at hand.

_So to speak_, he thought.

Seamus was the first to break it off. He let Neville fall out of his mouth with a loud POP!, and Neville was so startled he left off and propped himself up on his elbows. His voice was a whispered hiss as he said, "Someone could hear!"

"I don't care," Seamus whispered back, his voice harsh with emotion. "Nev—I want you. You inside me."

Neville couldn't take it in at first. Seamus Finnegan wanted him to penetrate him, to move inside him, to fuck him silly! Where the hell was all this coming from?

"Seamus," he said uncertainly, "look, I've never……"

"Neither have I," Seamus interrupted him. "Neville, I—we both might be dead before the school year ends. I've fancied you for a long time—I don't want to pass this up."

Neville's head was spinning. _Seamus Finnegan_ fancied _him_? Neville knew he wanted Seamus—but he'd never done this before! He didn't know—

_Bravery is when you don't know what's going to happen_

His words came back to him in wave of clarity.

He propped himself over the Irishman and looked him straight in the eye. "Seamus," Neville said slowly, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask—are you a virgin?"

Seamus met his gaze unflinchingly. He knew why Neville was asking. "Aye, I am, mate," he said. "I swear……on……on……on Harry Potter's scar!"

In spite of himself, Neville chuckled. "Serve you right if he heard you say that."

"He will. I'll tell him myself. Because I know he'll come back to Hogwarts and save us all. I _know_ it."

Seamus reached up and cupped Neville's face in his hands. "And I know I want you, Nev."

Neville hesistated. How did you start something like this? Wasn't there supposed to be something to, well, ease the way. In the end, unable to think of anything else, he resorted to what blokes had been using since they first started noticing other blokes: good old-fashioned spit.

He spat into his hand and rubbed it on Seamus' hole. It opened, but not a lot. "Seamus……I think this is really going to hurt. Are you sure……?"

"I've been hurt a lot this year," Seamus whispered angrily. "So have you. I'm not afraid!"

"Neither am I." Neville spat into his palm, and rubbed it over his rock hard member. He positioned himself between Seamus' legs, raised them into the air, and guided it slowly to the target.

It _did_ hurt. Seamus grabbed a pillow and bit hard into it to keep from crying out, and Neville winced at what he was doing to his friend. He started to soften, and Seamus must have felt it, because he threw off the pillow and whispered, "Don't lose it, Neville! Do it!!"

Neville's hardness returned, and he began to thrust, slowly at first, then with more speed and more power. Seamus gasped at each thrust, but began to figure out Neville's rhythm, and began to move with him.

Neville leaned over and kissed Seamus even as he kept thrusting into him. Seamus returned the kiss as best he could, his hands sliding over Neville's back.

Pressure was building. "I'm…getting close," Neville gasped.

"Me….too!"

"Together!"

Just at the last second, Neville pulled out of Seamus and began to erupt, sending milky white fluid all over Seamus' chest and stomach. Seamus himself exploded in kind, sending his juice to mix with Neville's.

Exhausted and soaked with sweat, Neville collapsed onto Seamus. "That……was……brilliant," he gasped out.

"Yeah…" Seamus held Neville tightly. "Nev……thanks."

Neville's head came up in surprise. "For shagging you?" he asked, puzzled.

"No. For being brave."

Neville smiled shyly and lowered his lips down to Seamus'.


End file.
